One Night in a Cafe
by Feuilly
Summary: Because of the fact that I write this when I can't think of anything, it seems that this is starting to have a plot. What happens if Grantaire told Enjolras about his feelings, and then you throw Combeferre into the mix? Slash (On indefinite hiatus)
1. Chapter 1

Grantaire drained yet another bottle. It wasn't as if he liked doing this, he hated what he was doing to his body, but it was nothing compared to what Enjolras was doing to his soul.

He couldn't help it. The golden boy... Man, well, that was a problem. He was twenty-two, but he didn't seem older than seventeen, making Grantaire unsure of what to label him as. What ever he was, he was doing something to Grantaire.

Currently, Grantaire's interest was making a speech, about the people. Grantaire didn't understand it, there was enough trouble in trying to look out for yourself, why bother to look out for someone else? Enjolras didn't see that though, he was too interwoven with the ideals in his head. The people will rise, he said, as if he knew it.

How did he know it though? How, my dear Enjolras, Grantiare thought, How will people without enough energy to get food have enough energy to survive?

Enjolras didn't see that either.

The boy finished his speech, and then everyone started to disperse. This was Grantiare's least favourite part of the evening, when everyone left. Usually, although very few people noticed this, he would be left alone with Enjolras.

Two people did notice, one of them was Jehan, who would give the drunk a small understanding smile as he would slide on his coat, which was a horrible shade of orange, and leave through the door.

The other was Combeferre, who would be the last one of the Amis to leave, other than the two of question, of course. Combeferre had shocked Grantaire the first time he had noticed, as all he had done was look between the two of them, chake his head, and leave.

No one else knew, and Grantaire would like to keep it that way. Not even Enjolras knew.

Now those two were gone, leaving Enjolras and Grantiare alone in the back room.

"E-Enjolras." He slurred, causing the golden boy to look up.

"Go away," The blond replied harshly, "You're drunk, until you can be of any help, leave."

"No," He said, he refused to leave now, it had taken him the entire night to gather this courage, "I want to talk to you."

Enjolras' head jerked up, and he narrowed his eyes, "Then talk, I need to get this done, talk all you'd like, I can't say I'll listen, but talk."

Grantaire started into a drunken rambling, not paying attention to where his speech was going.

Then Enjolras' eyes grew wide, "What did you just say?"

Grantiare tried to think about what he had been talking about, "I – I can't remember,"

"You said you loved me," Enjolras murmured.

"Did I?" Grantaire asked. Had he really said it, after all this time?

"Yes... Yes you did." Enjolras said, starting to close his books.

"I – I didn't mean to." He said quickly, sensing Enjolras was about to leave.

"So it isn't true?" The blond asked, cocking his head, and grabbing his coat.

"No – yes – I – It is true, but I didn't mean to say it." Grantaire stuttered.

Enjolras picked up his books and started towards the door, "Goodnight wine-cask."

"Wait! Enjolras – I – I'm sorry." Grantaire shouted after him, but the student kept moving.

Grantaire ran after him, and right before he reached the door, grasped the blond's head, and kissed him.

"I told you to wait," He murmured against Enjolras' lips, before kissing him again.

Enjolras was still for a moment, then returned the kiss with a passion. But, after another minute, he realized what he was doing.

"I – You're drunk Grantiare, you don't realized what you just did, do you?"

"Yes," Replied the wine-cask, with sincerity ringin through his voice, "I know exactly what I did."

"No," Enjolras muttered, "No, no you don't. It was a drunken mistake..."

And then he ran from the Cafe, more afraid of what he was feeling then what he had just done.

A/N: For Yeliah, who kept telling me to write a R/Enjy fic. So I did, mainly to prove I'm not dead.


	2. Chapter 2

Grantaire chased a fleeing Enjolras out of the cafe.

"Wait!" Grantaire called, causing people to stare.

Enjolras continued to run, not letting the stumbling drunk deter him from his goal. Getting away.

He managed to make it to his rooms without any problem, flying across the streets and up the stairs in record time. But once he was at his apartment, there was the entire issue of getting the door unlocked with shaking hands.

Suddenly someone put their hand over his. Although the movements were gentle, and smooth, there was no mistaking the smell of wine that covered Grantaire.

"Why'd ya run?" Grantaire asked, as the key turned smoothly in the hole, causing the door to ease open.

For the first time in his life, Enjolras couldn't give an answer, so instead he slipped inside and slammed the door shut. Before he could lock it, however, it opened, to reveal Grantaire, standing there, looking awkward and unsure of what to do, now that he had the main obstacle out of the way.

"Well come in then, if you're going to break the door down," Enjolras snarled.

"Enjolras" Grantaire tried to sooth, but since his voice was hoarse, he was panting, and the general affect alcohol had had on his voice wasn't good, it didn't sound too reassuring, "Don't worry, I'm not going to-" He broke off, not sure what he was promising.

"Not going to what? Scare me? Chase me? Break and enter?" Enjolras tried to sound angry, but his voice only came out as a whisper, and he collapsed onto the bed, barely managing to stay in a sitting position.

Grantaire moved close to the blond, trying to look non-threatening. He rubbed his back, but his movements were sluggish, and he couldn't get his body to work right.

"You're drunk." Enjolras needlessly pointed out, "You don't know what you're doing," But he leaned into the touch.

"I am drunk. When ain't I? But I do know what I'm doing."

Enjolras stayed silent, and who knows how long they stayed there, just waiting in silence.

Then Grantaire noticed Enjolras' normally perfect posture was slumped, and he realized, with a grin, that the student had fallen asleep.

He untangled himself, making sure to be gentle and not wake the blond.

He tucked Enjolras under the sheets, and let his eyes trace over the body laying in the bed. No doubt Enjolras was a handsome creature, if there had been any baby-fat, it was far gone, letting supple muscles, and smooth skin take over.

The body curled, making Grantaire, who had been sitting on the edge of the bed, jump slightly.

"Bon nuit, Petit." He muttered, and, feeling unusually tender, kissed the golden head, before heading out into the night.

Once again, for Yeliah, and this is it. I can't use anymore time for this, I have two big stories I need to write.


	3. Chapter 3

"Enjolras? Where are you?" A voice called through the door.

"Not here." Muttered the blond, turning over in his bed, refusing to think about the memories from the night before.

Combeferre unlocked his door, and walked into his room, Grantaire in tow.

"Combeferre!" Enjolras exclaimed, sitting up quickly in bed, "It – I – What did he tell you?"

"Enjolras, relax, this has nothing to do with... Us." He said the last word quickly, "Or what we've done in the past, but Grantaire was worried, and he knew I had a key to your apartment."

"Yer normally up and abou' righ' now. I was kinda scared." The wine-cask muttered.

Enjolras looked at his two... lovers.

Grantaire had made an effort to look good today, he had sort of shaved, and he didn't smell of absinth like he normally did. His clothes weren't rumpled either, Enjolras couldn't help but notice.

Enjolras couldn't deny his attraction to the man, he had always seemed so... Alone, and Enjolras wanted to help people, even if it was to give them company.

Combeferre looked impeccable, as per normal. Although he was short, and his hair wasn't tidy in the slightest, he still managed to look more put together then any of the other students.

Enjolras remembered their childhood, they had shared together. They had been sweet-hearts, and even though his brunette had moved to Paris a year before himself, Enjolras had missed him, and in a letter, vowed to always loved the man.

Oh god, what had he dragged himself into?

"Would you mind if I asked you two to leave the room for a moment?" He asked the pair, "I have to... get ready."

Both Combeferre and Grantare muttered something and left the room.

He pulled himself out of bed, and opened his amour. It didn't take him long to get changed, and, remembering that Combeferre loved to have things neat, he even made his bed. All the while he was thinking.

Enjolras was a smart man, and he knew that last night had been really, really stupid. He knew he had been too tired, and he knew he should have left a few hours earlier. If he had, he would have managed to avoid the entire thing.

But no, the speech had seemed too important at the time, and his inspiration had blossomed, and it wouldn't let him leave. Jehan was right, sometimes a person could easily become a slave to their art. He liked to think that he had a gift for public speech, but if he thought about it too much, the more normal it seemed. Everyone could talk, and people like Courfeyrac could talk terribly smoothly.

He shook his head to bring him back to the present problem.

What was he going to do?

He'd have to talk to them both, and see what they thought. This could get ugly, very, very quickly. But, it must be done.

He ran his fingers through his hair in a variation of combing it, and figured he couldn't waste much more time. It was time to face the music. Why was falling in love so easy?

Then he remembered something that Courfeyrac had said, months ago, when he had been deciding between two girls.

"_Loving a person is hard, but, once you let yourself, you find yourself loving, more and more."_

At the time, Enjolras had thought it nonsense, but now, he knew the truth of the words.

A/N: Oh crap, this actually has a plot now, doesn't it? That means I have to continue, doesn't it?


	4. Chapter 4

Enjolras ran a hand through his hair as he looked at his watch. He'd been in his room for twenty minutes, trying to avoid going out and talking to his two...

Yeah. This was going to be difficult.

It would be easy to just escape, but Combeferre deserved to know the truth. And Grantaire at least deserved a chance, didn't he?

He grabbed his hat and went out to face the figurative music.

* * *

><p>Grantaire wasn't used to a few things that were a big part of his situation. First, being in Enjolras' rooms. There were two, a main one with a stove, a couple of chairs and a table, and the one with his bed and his desk. There were papers and books everywhere, but everything was in piles that looked more or less organized. Grantaire also wasn't used to being sober. Let alone hungover. If he was feeling hungover he generally just drank until he wasn't in pain anymore. He also was not used to Enjolras being vulnerable. Maybe his mighty marble statue of Apollo wasn't as cold as he looked.<p>

Said statue had finally walked out of his bedroom. It was almost noon, which would normally have Enjolras striding about rushing food into his body while he read over his latest speech. Today, however, he knew food and the people would be the last thing from his mind.

_How can I try to help them if I can't even fix myself?_

"Alright, so, as both of you probably guessed..." He started, but then he trailed off, "I actually have no idea how to go about this."

Grantaire gave a wheezing laugh at the expression of the blond. Combeferre also had an amused smirk.

"If you both find it so humorous I'm sure we can easily switch topics!" Enjolras snapped, blushing.

Combeferre sat himself down into one of the chairs, "It's not that, it's just you honestly have never done anything like this before, have you?"

Grantaire raised an eyebrow, "Didn't you two..."

He let the sentence die. That was a subject that needed a lot of alcohol before even being contemplated.

"You know what?" Enjolras pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed tight, "I can't really deal with this right now."

And he strode out of the room.

"That actually went better than I thought it would." Combeferre said with a small chuckle.

* * *

><p>"Courfeyrac! I hate to interupt, but I may be in need of some advice for a friend." Enjolras stood stiffly at the side of a table at a cafe about an hour later.<p>

"Of course! I can tell that this is a bit more personal, so I'll bid you all adieu." He grinned at the small group of people he had been sitting with and stood up.

He followed Enjolras out of the cafe, and gave him a sideways glance, "So Grantaire, eh?"

"How-" Enjolras tried not to gape.

"Do you honestly think I'm normally up this early when I don't have to be?" Courfeyrac gave a chuckle as he led Enjolras to a park, "He came to me this morning in quite a state, all worried about something he did with you. I was about to be really proud of both of you and almost jealous before he told me he'd just kissed you. I told him not to worry and get Combeferre, because he has a key to your apartment."

"So do you," Enjolras said, giving him a cold look, "I don't like you getting in my business, why set something like this up?"

"Two reasons. One, you indirectly disturbed my beauty sleep. Secondly, and in all seriousness, if you want something to actually happen, or if you want something not to happen, you need to actually get to it." Courfeyrac stopped walking and turned to face Enjolras dead on, "I care deeply about everyone who is involved in this, I want everyone to come out on top. If you and Combeferre are lovers. Explain it to Grantaire. If you want to end your relationship with Combeferre, explain that to them both. If you want to do something with both of them, explain it. Figure out what you want, Enjolras, then act upon it."

"It was my first kiss." He said quietly, looking at the ground, "My first, Courfeyrac. And I'm not even sure what I want."

"Clearly," Courfeyrac started walking again, "You seem to be quite shaken up. Work on a speech, do school work, go for a walk, sleep on it. Do something to get you back to you, because then you can figure out what you want."

"Right." Enjolras was all manners again, "Thank you for this."

Enjolras walked away feeling a bit lighter, but just as confused.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This is mainly because I hate leaving you guys on edge for so long. If anyone has any storyline ideas, feel free to PM me, because I have no idea where this is going. This is the problem with extending a one-shot.**


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